The most interesting thing to note about Gnollish weapons is their strange duality in being both rustedly dull and razor sharp. Malcear became an expert on this fact in the deepest bowels of the Ofalum Cold Iron Mines. Rothyde and his personal guard proved to be the biggest challenge his team had yet encountered. Needless to say the battle had been a close one, and tested the skills and endurance of each and every combatant. At one key moment Malcear had seen an opening to dispose of the goblin archers, freeing his allies of their burden, so he spun on his heels and ran to accomplish it. It was that moment when one of the two massive terrible Gnolls buried his axe into Mal's spine. He fell.
He could hear the sounds of battle still raging around him, but all he saw was blackness, and all he felt was pain. Darkness was strange to Malcear. He had never had a problem being able to make out images clearly even in the darkest night, but this blackness was like an iron veil. He could tell his eyes were open. No doubt rolled into the back of his head. His lips struggled to form words but just flapped like a dying fish as he yearned to call out to his allies.
Suddenly everything was brought to full light. It was jarring. He stood in an empty chamber, under some kind of spotlight. It's source seemed to be a bright white energy dancing around in the darkness above him. Something in the back of his mind told him it was Noreal. The chamber seemed to go on forever. He felt a chill and every breath seemed to echo outward eternally. Where was this bizarre place?
The lights shifted and from the darkness emerged a massive metal disc. It was polished brightly and into every facet was etched tiny runes. It slowly spun on both axes. Mal was baffled at what he was looking at. He stood there dwarfed by the giant rotating iron wheel. He focused on the markings and came to understand it was a circular map of Corlace. Every centimeter was a metal replica of each city, every tree, river, and mountain. Parts shifted and moved, as though time was passing quickly. There where fires burning in every corner. White to the north, red to the east, blue to the west, and dark black flames to the south. Soon they began to spread and the entire disc was covered in a roaring prismatic inferno. It crumbled away bit by bit. It seemed to be falling in pieces to the floor leaving only a small piece left floating in the air. It was too far to make out. It looked like a smaller version of the original, but perhaps it was a crown? For some reason the burning made the smell of warm chocolate cookies. That is what really pulled Malcear out of the vision. The flavor lingered on his tongue and slowly turned into a bitter acidic flavor that filled his whole body.
His eyes focused and he was brought back to the world of the living. There was a potion being poured down his throat.
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